I visit many distant lands of gold
And find many goodly kingdoms abroad.
Across many islands down south, I’d trod,
Which bards loyal to grand Apollo hold.
Oft of a vast location, I was told,
A high-brow’d historian’s old domain
But hoping to visit it was in vain
Till I saw Chapman talk out loud and bold:
It was as if, watching in a night sky,
I’d found out that an unknown orb had swum
Into sight, or how Balboa did spy
Pacific foam afar–and, all struck dumb
His sailors look’d around, not knowing why–
Upon a hill in Panama, half-numb.
(As in “Bright Star”, this author puts punctuation in highly lucky locations for my parodying! What can I say?)